


Of birthdays and bicycles

by heyguysitsmywriting (dozierosieposie)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Teenage AU, other cameos i guess, uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 22:03:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1874124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dozierosieposie/pseuds/heyguysitsmywriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Marco's birthday, and Jean doesn't have much for him except a little package and a confession.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of birthdays and bicycles

**Author's Note:**

> I apologise that this is a very late birthday fic for marco, but I have had exams, so I pushed my frustration into this, but it was still late. so sorry.   
> on tumblr http://tiger-in-a-jam-jar.tumblr.com/post/90384383505/belated-birthday-wishes

"Sash, are you sure he'll like it?" Jean Kirschtein looked across the Blouse kitchen at his friend, who was currently making a sandwich. "Of course!" she said excitedly, waving the butter knife in her hand around, "It's from you right?"

"Mate, don't worry about it," Connie said gently, "Marco would love anything you gave him, even if it was Mr Pixis' old socks." Jean stared forlornly at the package in front of him. Sasha had offered to wrap it for him, but he had insisted on doing it himself. If he had to give Marco something as meagre as this, he wanted it to be completely from him; right down to the sellotape that held together the haphazardly folded Iron Man wrapping paper.

"I just think it isn't enough." he moaned, probably for the tenth time that afternoon, "If I'd only saved a bit more - "

"Stop, Jean," Sasha said firmly, subconsciously pointing her blunt - but no less dangerous - knife at him, "You had to take a break from your job to revise for our exams, simple as. Marco will understand." She brought a plate adorned with a sandwich cut into two to the table and placed it in front of him. "Eat. You're looking peaky again. You need sustenance." _God,_ Jean thought, _she acts like she's my mum sometimes._ Then again, it's not like he didn't appreciate Sasha and she made great sandwiches. Connie made a grab for a half, but Sasha slapped his hand away. "Off," she said sternly, "That's Jean's half. Here." she picked up her half of the sandwich and split it in two, handing one to Connie, who bit into it ravenously. Jean picked up his sandwich and took a bite. Cheese and apple. Delicious.

"Sho," Sasha mumbled through a mouthful of bread and cheese, "'Ah 'ya gonna tell 'im," she swallowed, "...you know?" Sasha and Connie were the only ones who knew about Jean's crush on Marco. He had come out to them - and only them - and they had picked up on the little glances Jean passed Marco's way when he thought he wasn't looking. He had long since stopped trying to deny it. But they were constantly trying to play Cupid. It was annoying. Endearing, but _god_ , it was so annoying.

"Nope," he answered without hesitation, "And I'm not going to." Sasha gave him an annoyed look, but said nothing.

"What?" Jean muttered, scowling. He scratched the spot that was starting to appear on his chin.

" _Why_ won't you tell him?"

"Because! Marco's not gay or nothin', he'd just think I was creepy if I said anything. He wouldn't talk to me anymore."

"Is that what you think?" Sasha asked angrily. Her hair flipped into her eyes but she brushed it away impatiently, "You think that Marco is the kind of person to just brush his friends off the moment they're honest with him?"

"Well, he's not exactly going to like it! How do think you'd feel if your best friend, who you'd known for years, suddenly came out with "Oh yeah man, by the way, I'm in love with you.!"

Connie suddenly started choking on his sandwich, and Jean had to slap him on the back. Sasha seemed slightly calmer after the interruption.

"To be perfectly honest with you, Jean, I'd feel flattered, and I think Marco will too. That is if he doesn't jump into your arms first." she smiled.

"Thanks, but Marco doesn't feel like that, Sash." Jean sighed.

Sasha shrugged, "You never know until you try." She got up and brushed crumbs off herself, "Anyway, get out of my kitchen, I have to tidy up before my parents get home."

"Can I stay?" Connie asked, and Jean heard the hopeful tone in his voice and he rolled his eyes. Though Sasha was always messing with Jean's love life, she had yet to realise Connie's gargantuan crush on her. The tall girl answered him by chucking him a dishcloth, and Jean sat still, thinking.

Maybe Sasha was right. Marco wasn't the type to forsake someone, for any reason. But what if he does? No matter what scenarios he imagined, somehow he couldn't stop coming back to the conclusion that Marco would hate him. Or at least would avoid him. I mean, come on, who wants a gay best friend who's in love with him?

It was like trying to answer a multiple choice question on an exam. The right answer is _staring you in the face_ but you don't know which one it is. It was frustrating as hell.

_If I tell him, then I risk losing the greatest friend I could ever ask for_ , Jean thought, _but if I say nothing, I have to live every day knowing I'll never be able to tell him how I really feel._ He couldn't stop playing around with it in his head. _Choose! Make a choice, you piece of crap._

You know what? _Fuck it_.

"Hey, Sasha? Con?" the two looked at him, turning away from the apparent dishcloth war that had begun between them. Jean took a deep breath, "I'll tell him." Sasha's face lit up in a beaming smile, and Connie punched the air, before spinning and whacking her legs with the cloth. She retaliated by grabbing him around the waist and hitting him repeatedly with hers, before he cried for mercy, giggling. Jean smiled at his friends and made to leave.

"Jean?" Sasha called, detatching herself from Connie and grabbing something off the counter as she came toward him, "Give him this, yeah? From us. And good luck." She placed a cupcake in his hands, decorated with yellow icing - Marco's favourite colour - and a cherry.

Connie came up behind her, "Yeah, good luck mate! Get that freckled ass!" Sasha turned around and slapped his stomach with the dishcloth playfully, and he laughed.

Jean smiled, "Thanks guys." he said quietly, and left.

As he crossed the road from Sasha's over to Marco's house, the butterflies that he had been surpressing up until now began to flutter in his stomach uncomfortably. His palms were sweaty as they clutched his bicycle handlebars as he rolled it along the street. Marco's package was in the basket at the front. Jean was glad that Marco and Sasha lived just across the road from each other; if he had had to walk any further than a few steps, he would have backed out, would have just turned around and gone home without telling Marco anything. He left the bike on Marco's front garden, and painstakingly slowly, made his way up to the porch. He didn't know what he was acheiving by taking his time; he was only delaying the inevitable. Inevitable because even if he didn't do it tonight, Sasha would still force him to do it another time.

Jean rang the door bell once, and waited with bated breath.

The door flew open so suddenly it was a wonder it hadn't been ripped off his hinges. There stood Marco, in all his freckled glory, his normally neat hair bedraggled, as if he had run his hands through it several times, and his eyes sleepy. He looked dishevled and tired.

But, God, he was so cute.

Marco seemed to perk up a bit when he saw it was Jean at the door. He smiled tiredly, but genuinely, "Hey." God, Jean loved his smile. It turned his legs to jelly, and made every thought fly out of his head. Why did Marco have to have the most perfect smile, that stretched his lips and scrunched his freckled cheeks, that quirked up more at one side than the other, that showed just the right amount of teeth, and lit up his big brown eyes?

It was a few moments before Jean realised that he'd been staring at Marco's smile and hadn't "hey" back yet. The other boy was staring at him expectantly.

"O-oh, yeah, h-hi." he managed.

Marco's eyebrows quirked, upwards, turning his smile into a just-as-perfect smirk "Hi."

"U-uh, how're you doing?" _You just saw him at school - why are you asking how he is?!_ Ugh, why did everything that was coming out of his mouth sound so stupid? Marco just sighed.

"Honestly, I'm utterly sick and tired of this revision. If I have to look at another covalent bond I swear i'm going to scream."

Jean laughed, but it came out strained. "Oh yeah, we have that Chemistry exam tomorrow, right?" Marco nodded.

"Have you revised?"

"Not tonight. I did yesterday though. Don't worry; I'll do some when I get home." Why did he sound so awkward?

"Yeah," Marco rubbed the back of his neck, "I have to say, didn't think I'd spend my 16th birthday revising all night. Shouldn't we all be out painting the town red, celebrating and all that?" Jean laughed. Marco couldn't paint the town red if he tried. He was far too... wholesome. Then he remembered why he had knocked on his door.

"O-oh yeah. Do you wanna come out for a bit?" he asked nervously.

"Oh, I don't know if I can," Marco said sheepishly, "I have to revise, I mean, the exam is tomorrow, and Chem is really hard for me."

"What? You're gonna do great! You always do."

"On the other exams we've had, yeah. But Chemistry is evil, man." Marco smiled tiredly.

"Mate, you can take a break for an hour on your birthday. I think you deserve at least that much. " Jean tried to keep the plea out of his voice. Please just spend some time with me.

Marco hesitated, and Jean deadpanned, "You know I heard that too much work can rot your brain. It's been scientifically proven."

"That is definately not true." Marco said, but he shoved his feet into his shoes anyway.

"Don't fight science, Marco," Jean said with a grin as the other boy followed him out of the door, "Or you'll never pass the Chem exam." Marco gave him a light shove and then his eyes lit up with a mischeivous fire when he saw the bike on his front lawn.

"You brought the bike!"

"Of course, what else?" Marco and Jean had always rode the bike together, which Jean had been given by his mum when she saved up enough for his birthday. The two would take turns riding on the handlebars whilst the other peddaled. They used to spend hours riding around the streets, but with all the exams they had been having lately, they hadn't rode in months.

Because it was his birthday, Jean insisted that Marco get the handlebars. When both were properly situated, Jean pressed forward on the peddal and they surged forward onto the street. They started off slow, turning corners, weaving through the streets. Jean had to stand up on the peddals so that he could see over Marco's shoulder, who was perched precariously on the handlebars. The freckled boy moved his head and Jean got a whiff of his shampoo. He felt his face heat up because that was Marco's scent; apple flavoured shampoo and cheap deodorant.

They turned a corner, and came into the area of the city where the houses became few and far inbetween. They were now riding past fields, and Jean started to pick up speed, his legs working madly on the rickety bike. They zipped down hills, wind slapping their faces, and Jean heard Marco's laugh, a carefree, meldious sound, that had him laughing too.

After riding for a while, Jean swerved into the side of the road and they wheeled the bike into a little pathway that led to a stream. This was by far the two boys' favourite place in Trost; it was peaceful and quiet and seemed far away from the hustle and bustle of their lives in the city. They flopped on the bank, and lay quietly for a while, appreciating the silence. Even at night in Trost, there were still sirens and cars making a racket all throughout the night. This was... quiet. Neither spoke, but the silence wasn't awkward. The two knew each other well enough that they knew when staying quiet was better than filling the empty air with words.

But finally Jean spoke, "I am gonna be so glad when these exams are over."

Marco laughed, "Don't I know it. I'm so tired of it."

"And it has to suck having to do exams on you birthday," Jean said, "Speaking of which, I have something for you."

Marco looked up as his friend moved over to the bicycle basket, "You didn't have to get me anything; I know how hard you work."

"No, I had to get you something on your birthday; it's the legal obligation of a best friend." He placed the package in his friend's lap and handed him the yellow cupcake, "Oh, and this is from Sasha and Connie."

Marco grinned and took a bite of the cupcake. "'Fanks. Heh." holding out the cake. Jean bit into it and smiled. It tasted like vanilla. Sasha was so good at this. When they had finished the cake between them, Marco looked down at the package in his lap. "Nice wrapping paper." Jean blushed and scowled. "Shut up and open it, idiot." Marco ripped the paper off impatiently, to reveal what was underneath.

The frame was a simple one, but the photo was the main focus anyway. It had been taken when everyone had taken a trip to the beach. They had been paddling in the sea, and Marco had shown his less-than-angelic side, and splashed Jean, which had escalated into a full on splashing war. Sasha had snapped the photo when the two were just rolling around in the shallows, drenched to the skin, clinging to each other and laughing. It was one of Jean's favourites.

"Jean," Marco whispered as he stared at the photo, "This is - "

"I know it's not much," he blurted, "But it's all I could get."

"No, no! This is perfect! It's... more than perfect" Marco looked up at him and grinned. He looked radiant; his eyes shone and the setting sun was casting shadows on his freckles and making his olive skin look warm and gold. Jean wanted to kiss every inch of his face. _Do it now. This is the best chance you'll have._

"Listen, Marco," Jean started, looking at his hands in his lap, "I, uh, oh shit I don't know how to start this. Okay, uh, here goes: I like you. Like, like like you. Like, I wanna kiss the icing off your nose, and hug you and spend all day with you, and kiss you whenever I want and all that shit. I know you didn't know I was gay, and I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I'm telling you now."

Marco hadn't said a word, and when Jean looked up, he was simply staring at him, dumbstruck. He felt his throat close up. _He hates me. He doesn't want to be my friend anymore. I've ruined it, oh god._

Jean made to get up, and tried to speak through the tears that were threatening to break through. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, please don't hate me, I'll leave you alone after this -" he was broken off by Marco grabbing his wrist and yanking him down, pressing his lips to Jean's.

Jean made a noise of surprise and broke away in a daze. Marco just looked at him. "You need to learn to shut up sometimes."

"Y-you... you kissed me!" Jean cried incredulously.

"Yes, I did." he said, as if saying, get to the point.

"You... you like me?!" Marco smiled.

"There we go."

"But, how?" Jean was still in a state of disbelief, "When?"

"Uh, let me think, since... year nine, I think?" he'd liked him for two years?!

"I-I uh, I didn't think you liked me back." Jean said finally.

The freckled boy rolled his eyes. "Well, it wouldn't have hurt to check, right?"

"That's the thing, though!" the blond exclaimed, "I thought it would hurt. I... I thought you'd hate me."

Marco leaned in close to him, so Jean could feel his breath on his face. "I could never hate you, not ever, no matter what you said or did. Okay?" Jean gave a tiny nod, and suddenly they were kissing again, Marco's hands gripping his hips and his lips on his. He tasted like butter icing and apple lip balm (Marco really liked that stuff), and Jean felt elated, as if he was flying high over Trost, up in the clouds, free.

They lay there on the river bank, kissing and smiling for an immeasurable amount of time, until they noticed the sun sinking behind the trees and realised they should probably head back home. They rode back in the same positions they had come, but this time, Marco laid his hand over Jean's on the handlebars. This time, the knot in Jean's stomach had been replaced by a feeling of weightlessness, and he could hardly keep the goofy smile off his face.

Jean dropped Marco back home, but as the taller boy opened his door, Jean wanted to hold on to his hand, and not let him go back inside. He didn't want Marco to leave him.

Marco turned to face him, smiling. "So, I'll text you later?"

Jean rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, yeah. Hah, j-just so I know this isn't a dream or something." he was being cheesy, but he didn't care.

Marco laughed. "Goodnight, Jean." his brown eyes were soft as he leaned in and Jean met him halfway, slotting their lips together. Jean was sloppy and inexperienced, but Marco moved his lips with ease, and Jean wondered how many pillows he'd practiced on. As they pulled away, they heard a whoop come from the other side of the road.

Sasha and Connie stood in her doorway. Connie was punching the air, and Sasha was beaming. With them, Jean realised with a jolt, was Mikasa and Eren from over the street, along with Armin. Armin was smiling happily at them, and even Mikasa had a small smile. Eren was scowling.

"Mate, you owe me a fiver!" Connie yelled, pointing a finger at Eren. Eren forked over the moneyscrunching up his nose as he said, "How come horseface has a boyfriend and I'm still single?"

Mikasa punched her brother in the arm and he yelled, but Jean didn't care about Jaeger and his jabs tonight. He had Marco. He didn't need anything else.

"So..." he mumbled, "Would you, uh.... Would you like to go on, like, a date, uh, with me?"

Marco beamed. "It would be my pleasure."

"Oh, uh, cool." he tried to play it cool, but it was proving hard to keep from screaming with joy, "I'll, uh, pick you up on Friday? Six?"

"Bring the bike." the freckled boy pecked his lips one last time.

"Uh, okay. Night" he smiled as Marco shut the door. Jean picked up the bike and waved at Sasha and Connie.

"I told you!" Sasha yelled, before she went back inside with Con and the others. Jean wheeled the bike onto the road and may or may not ahev given a happy little jump before climbing onto the bike to cycle home, feeling... perfect.


End file.
